


Not Your Mother's Love Story

by godisthedice



Series: GW2017A [3]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gallavich Week 2017A, Gen, Infidelity, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-30
Updated: 2017-05-30
Packaged: 2018-11-06 19:22:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11042670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/godisthedice/pseuds/godisthedice
Summary: Gallavich Week 2017A Day 3: Alternate S7 endingThe phone dinged. Missed call. Ian waited to see if there was a voicemail. He didn't know if he was going to listen to it, if Mickey left a voicemail. Part of him thought he kind of owed it to Mickey. Part of him was sure that if he heard Mickey's voice one more time, if he remembered the way he sounded when he said Ian's name, he was going to fall right back into everything he was trying to escape.There weren't any more dings. No voicemail. Nothing.It should have made Ian feel better.





	Not Your Mother's Love Story

_Bzzzzzz_

Ian had fucked up. He'd known better, he'd _known_ better than to start getting caught up in all of Mickey's bullshit again.

_Bzzzzzz_

Now he'd cheated on Trev. Just like he'd cheated on Mickey. Just like Caleb had cheated on him. This time he didn't even have being manic as an excuse for it.

_Bzzzzzz_

Was he manic? Ian didn't think he was manic. He never thought he was manic when he was actually manic though. Maybe he should be more worried because he felt okay.

_Bzzzzzz_

It had felt good though. Being with Mickey. It had felt like he was _feeling_ again. He loved Trev. He thought he loved Trev anyway. It didn't feel like it had with Mickey, but that was probably a good thing. Fiona would tell him that it was a good thing. She'd tell him that what he'd felt when he was with Mickey, that wasn't good for him. Mickey wasn't good for him.

_Bzzzzzz_

Monica would tell him that he should leave. That he should run and follow his heart. His heart was telling him _Mickey_ , _Mickey_ , _Mickey_.

That should tell him what kind of idea it was, running off with Mickey.

_Bzzzzzz_

Ian braced his palms against his forehead and breathed.

_Bzzzzzz_

_Bzzzzzz_

_Bzzzzzz_

The phone dinged. Missed call. Ian waited to see if there was a voicemail. He didn't know if he was going to listen to it, if Mickey left a voicemail. Part of him thought he kind of owed it to Mickey. Part of him was sure that if he heard Mickey's voice one more time, if he remembered the way he sounded when he said Ian's name, he was going to fall right back into everything he was trying to escape.

There weren't any more dings. No voicemail. Nothing.

It should have made Ian feel better.

It was going to make Ian feel better. Soon. Just as soon as he forgot how Mickey smelled.

* * *

_Bzzzzzz_

Ian's heart jumped just like it did every time his phone had gone off since he'd decided not to answer when Mickey called. It didn't calm down when he saw 'Lip' on the screen. Ian and his heart hadn't been getting along much lately. "Hey man."

"Hey. Can you believe Fiona fuckin' sold the laundromat?"

Since Lip couldn't actually see him, Ian rolled his eyes. It didn't matter how hard he tried not to get in the middle, Lip was going to keep dragging him back in it. When Ian had problems though, no one noticed until he was laying in bed all day staring at the wall or kidnapping a baby and trying to run away to Florida.

Yeah. Ian couldn't do this right now. Not when Mickey was who knew where and doing who knew what. Had he waited? Had he put off going to Mexico because Ian hadn't come to see him one last time?

Ian knew he was doing the right thing. Not running away from a stable job, a stable relationship. That didn't mean that he wanted Mickey to get caught. Part of him was only functioning because he could imagine Mickey on a beach somewhere in Mexico. Ian hoped he actually thought about putting sunscreen on. He'd probably have given Ian shit about it but as pale as he was he'd turn into a lobster fast.

"Yeah, I can barely hear you. I'm on the rig, I'm, uh, I'm working a double."

"Ah... alright, well, uh, I'll see you later tonight then?"

"I'm--ah, I'm actually... sleeping at the station."

"Okay." There was a pause, enough room for Ian to have said something if he wanted to. He didn't. "Take care."

Ian sighed when he pulled the phone away from his ear and hit the end call button. Either he'd gotten way too good at lying to Lip, or Lip was so busy being mad at Fiona that he just wasn't paying attention.

"Watch out, Gallagher, those pants are gonna catch on fire." Sue tossed him a bottle of water; Ian caught it one-handed. "Maybe I should tell Rita you wanna sign up for that double, for your own good."

It was almost a reflex to flip her off. Sue laughed and settled down on the couch across from him. "You _should_ stay here tonight, if you need to get away from the family drama."

"Yeah. Maybe." Ian coulda gone to Trev's. Made up some excuse for why he'd missed his call. Something that didn't have anything to do with Mickey. More lies. "I'll see if my boyfriend feels like company tonight. Definitely not going home though."

Sue leaned back into the corner of the couch, feet propped up on the cushion. "Who is it this time?" 

"More of the whole Lip and Fiona laundromat saga." For some reason, Sue got a kick out of all his family drama. She'd told him a couple times that it was better than watching TV while they were waiting for their next call, especially since she could pause it and come back to it once they were done. "Fiona sold it for a really good profit, Lip's mad because he didn't get to say he told her so." There was more than that. There was always more than that but as much as Ian loved Lip, that was the biggest reason.

Sue shook her head. "He'd have been just as mad if she'd lost money on it." It was almost like she actually _knew_ Ian's family. "What about you?"

"What about me?"

"I'm not stupid, Ian." Sue pointed the mouth of her water bottle at him, the liquid inside almost splashing out. "Something's going on with you that isn't just family drama. Spill. Problems with the boyfriend?"

It was probably a really bad idea to talk about Mickey. Ian was kinda trying to live by out of sight out of mind. That wasn't working so well tough. Not when he still couldn't get Mick out of his head. No matter how far away he probably was. What could it hurt? "Some drama with my ex. Not Caleb, the one before that. He came back around, talked like he wanted me back. It's messing with my head."

"Do you want him back?" Sue asked it like it wasn't a question that Ian had been chasing around in his head since he'd heard that Mickey had broken out of prison.

Ian shook his head, but what he told her was, "I don't know. He was my first real love, y'know?" There was Kash, sure, but that hadn't been anything like Mickey either. Mickey had been... Mickey woulda burned the world down for Ian just because he asked him to. Maybe that wasn't sane or healthy or whatever, but Ian was pretty sure it was the stuff that romance novels were written about.

Sue nodded. "First loves. You never really get over them. So, what are you going to do?"

"What can I do?" Ian gave her all the reasons that he'd been giving himself. "I've got Trev now. Me and Mick, that's over. It's been over. I've got a good job, I've got friends, I've got a _life_ , and he wants me to..." Maybe he oughta skip the part where his ex was a fugitive. "He's gotta move. Far away. Probably never coming back. And he wanted me to go with him. I told him no.

"Actually I didn't tell him. I just... didn't show up. I didn't even give him an answer." Ian ran a hand through his hair, tugged at it a little. "That was a real bitch move, huh?"

"Hey. I can't tell you that." Sue took a long, slow drink. Ian waited with his eyes fixed on her because what he hadn't had before? The opinion of someone far enough away from the situation that they don't have any personal feelings about it. It wasn't fair to expect that much out of Sue's answer. He hung on every word of it anyway. "I just think there must be something still there if you're this twisted up about it."

Yeah. That was what Ian had thought too.

* * *

Ian had tossed and turned on the station's bed until he'd moved to the couch instead, the night before. He couldn't stop thinking about Mickey, about how far he might have gotten. Whether he was at the border yet. He coulda crossed by the time Ian actually passed out, if he hadn't run into too much trouble. Ian had checked Google Maps. Made up stories about routes that Mickey might have taken. Places he might have stopped. Thought that if he'd been with him...

There hadn't been anything on the news about Mickey getting caught. Not anywhere. Not in Chicago, not in any of the towns that woulda been on the route that Mickey woulda taken.

Ian knew exactly which way Mickey would have gone. He _knew_ Mickey, better than anyone knew Mickey. Better than he'd ever known Caleb or would ever know Trev. Mickey was in his blood.

_Bzzzzzz_

It took a second to fish his phone out of his pocket. He still expected to see the number for the burner phone that Mickey had been calling him from. He'd memorized it. He'd thought about calling it himself half a dozen times.

The screen said 'Fiona' like it was just trying to spite him. A text message. He opened it anyway, even if it was probably just more complaining about Lip or the laundromat. Or both.

> monica's in the hospital. doctors are doing their best but i think she's gone. call me.

Another message popped up while Ian was staring at the first one, trying to make the words make sense.

> love you sweetface. go see trev if you need to. we can wait.

All Ian wanted was to run to the front door of the Milkovich house and tell Mickey that he needed to see him.

* * *

"Hey. Look who the cat dragged in."

Ian didn't say anything. Kev looked just as tired as he felt. He'd probably been with the family all day. Like Ian should have been.

"The fuck have you been?" Lip asked it like he'd actually tried to get hold of Ian. He hadn't. All Ian had gotten had been that one text message from Fiona--other than that his phone hadn't buzzed all day.

Shrugging off his backpack, Ian told him, "Work." It had been true even. Kind of. He'd been at work for a while. Then he'd been walking around the city going to every place that he could think of that Mickey might have been hiding out if he was just waiting for Ian to call him back and ask him to wait for him.

Mickey hadn't been in any of them. Mickey was gone and it felt like there was a hole in Ian's chest.

Kev handed him a beer; Lip pointed out the leftover chicken in the red and white bucket on the counter. Nobody asked any questions or acted like they didn't believe him. It was easy to settle back in. Help sort out the details about who they were calling, what they were doing with Monica's stuff.

They were always best at being a family when everything had gone to complete shit. For the first time since he'd heard that cop say Mickey's name, Ian felt almost normal.

Maybe that was why he stepped outside after everyone else had gone to bed and dialed the number of Mickey's burner phone. He didn't feel good. He wasn't manic, not a chance. If Ian felt normal maybe it was safe to call Mickey. Just to see if he'd made it through the checkpoint. Just to see if he was safe.

All he got was a woman's voice saying that the number he'd dialed was no longer in service.

* * *

"--rescinding her probation and sending her back to juvie isn't in anyone's best interest."

Ian could hear Trev from the second he stepped inside the building. Hard at work, like always, trying to save the world. Ian wished that he felt that warm rush in his chest that he'd always gotten when Mickey had said something completely offensive to someone who had no idea how to handle him. If he was going to feel fond of anything it shoulda been Trev and the way he was always trying to rescue just one more kid.

Trev noticed him as soon as he stepped around the corner. Just a brief flick of his eyes and then he was back to business. "No, um, I have a bed for her and I'll make sure she's in it in time for curfew." He got off the phone quick after that. Not before he said thanks though. Trevor was a professional.

"Doin' God's work?" Ian sounded nervous. Just as nervous as he felt. He was used to Trev making him nervous, just... not like this.

Normally even when Trev was talking about one of his kids, and the horrible shit that happened to them, he still sounded warm. About them. About Ian. He didn't this time. Yeah... Ian had fucked up not returning that call. Even if he'd just... called him back in the morning...

"My mom died." Like that excused it. Like it explained everything when it barely even explained why he hadn't talked to him the day before.

"Shit." Maybe for Trevor it did. It wasn't like he knew when she died. Or maybe Ian coulda been spending her final hours with her. He could lie and he could save this relationship. It would be worth it. Maybe.

He didn't lie. Trevor said he was sorry anyway. And then, because Trevor was fantastic, and because Trevor didn't take any of Ian's shit, he called him on it. "I've been texting you the past couple of days, where have you been?"

"I was with Mickey. For part of it." Ian didn't say what they'd been doing. He didn't have to. He didn't know what the look on his face was telling Trev, but the look on Trev's said plenty about what he assumed. "Then I was... thinking." About Mickey. All of it was about Mickey. Ian hadn't been thinking about Trev at all. Not the way he shoulda been.

Trev probably got that too.

Ian tried anyway. Maybe this was something they could get through. "You wanna get a drink later? Maybe some food?"

It was probably the nicest way that Ian had ever been shot down. He couldn't get offended either. Between an asshole cheating (ex?) boyfriend and a kid in need, of course Trev was going to choose the kid in need. That was the kind of guy he was.

"Hey, Trevor?"

Ian was a little surprised that he still stopped. "I'm sorry."

"Let me know when your mom's service is." It wasn't forgiveness. It wasn't telling Ian he never wanted to see him again either. He didn't know what to do with that. "She was fucked up but... I kinda liked her."

The way that door closed behind him felt kinda final though. Ian deserved that.

_Bzzzzzz_

Even knowing the number that Ian knew wasn't working anymore, the buzz of his phone made his heart jump again.

He didn't have time to think about what that meant once he found out what it was that Debbie wanted him to go home for.

* * *

Ian wasn't sure how he felt when the funeral was over. Numb, he guessed. Not the kind of numb that the drugs made him. Just... a normal kind of numb. Maybe the way everybody felt when they saw their mom laying in her casket. He didn't know what else they were supposed to do except maybe get up and try to get back to their lives.

Then Frank.

There were a lot of moments in Ian's life than started with 'then Frank' and most of them weren't good. He'd been a little surprised that Frank hadn't had something to say at the service. He'd expected him to do something embarrassing. Some normal kind of Frank thing. Maybe for Grandpa Bill to come after him again when he did.

"No... no... w--no, wait, Monica. Monica... Monica was the love of my life and I knew that the first time I ever saw her."

Trevor was beside him but Ian was thinking of messy black hair and a dirty face, bright blue eyes that looked down at him like they'd never seen him before. Ian had seen Mickey Milkovich probably a hundred times before then but he didn't think he'd really _seen_ him until that day. Until their clothes started coming off and Ian got a look at what Mickey was hiding under the tough act and the 'fuck u-up' tattoos.

"...and that was it. My pilot light was out and Monica was the gas company."

Ian wasn't sure if he'd ever needed Mickey like that, but... but Mickey had needed him that way. Mickey had made Ian the center of his fucking world after he'd finally let himself be free to love him the way that Ian knew he'd always wanted to. Ian was under his skin, that was what he'd said. Under his skin and he couldn't let him go.

"We loved a lot. We fought a lot."

Yeah. Yeah, they'd done that too. So much that Ian wasn't ever really sure if they were fighting or loving. Maybe they were the same for them. They were southside trash, both of them. Him and Mickey. Mickey got that part of him the way that Caleb, the way that Trevor, never could.

Why the fuck was he comparing his relationship to Frank and Monica's like that was a good thing?

Except they kind of had the only love story that Ian had ever known. They'd fucked up. They hadn't been much good for anybody else but... Frank had really loved her, hadn't he?

"She was strong. And you're strong."

Except Ian wasn't. Ian had let... the only guy who had ever made him feel alive, even if feeling alive wasn't always the same as feeling good... Ian had let him walk away. Not just walk away but drive away, all the way to another country and out of reach. Maybe forever.

Maybe not.

"And she was brave, and you're brave."

No. Ian couldn't... it was crazy. He wasn't thinking right. He was... he wasn't manic. But he was grieving. He wasn't himself. He couldn't make any decisions. He _shouldn't_ , at least. Not until he'd thought it through more. Not until he knew that he was doing it for the right reason.

"...but she loved you. And you wouldn't be who you are, and I wouldn't be who I am, if she hadn't come into our lives."

No one had ever loved Ian the way that Mickey had loved Ian. No one had even come close. Ian didn't love himself as much as Mickey had loved him. Maybe that was why he hadn't been able to take being around him, then. It was hard to see himself the way that Mickey saw him when what Mickey saw was somebody that was worth sticking it out for. Sickness or health.

He hadn't liked it. The way they'd all started talking about how much he was like Monica after he'd been diagnosed. But if Monica was the kind of person that someone could love so much...

Maybe there were some parts of her that Ian wouldn't mind being.

"So hate her if you want. But she's in you. And that's a good thing."

* * *

Ian stayed for the party. Most of it anyway. It was what his mom would have wanted, him being with his family for long enough for them to say goodbye in real Monica Gallagher fashion.

That wasn't all that Monica would have wanted from him though. Monica would tell him to follow his heart and even after everything, even after all the crap of the past few days, his heart still wanted Mickey.

He'd really loved her. Frank. Even Fiona had figured it out by the time the part was really getting started. The difference was that Monica... she'd been too busy thinking about herself and what she needed. What she wanted. Ian... Ian had done that too for a while. It was easy. When you felt better off the pills than on them it was easy to do what made you feel good.

Ian wasn't Monica. Mickey wasn't Frank, no matter how much everyone said they were both fuck ups. They weren't gonna have his mom and Frank's love story. They'd already made their own and it was _better_ than that. And it wasn't over. It couldn't be over. Not when Ian had an 'I love you' to make up for an a proposal to accept, if it was still open.

He slipped up to his room after Frank pulled Fiona away to dance. Everyone would probably think that he just wanted some time to himself, especially if Fiona let them all know that he and Trev had broken up. No one would be coming to look for him until after he'd packed enough changes of clothes to get him over the border. All his pills, because if he was going to do better than Monica then he had to keep taking them. Even when he was going on the run. And once he was there... they'd figure something out. Mickey would make sure that it was all taken care of, just like he always had.

The note he left on his bed, written on the back of a receipt.

> _Swear I'm not acting crazy. I just have to find him and figure out how this ends. Love you guys. I'll call when I can._
> 
> _Ian_

There was a lot of Mexico to cover. Ian could look for years and never find him, but he knew Mickey. Better than anyone knew Mickey. Better than he'd ever known Caleb or would ever know Trev. Mickey was in his blood.

Ian was going to find Mickey and this time he was never letting go of him again.


End file.
